but it’s there in his face, a fleeting reluctance that matches her own. they stand there together for a long time, for too long, for what seems like forever, each unwilling to part ways, letting the people behind them stream past like a river around rocks ; it’s something about the way he’s looking at her, his eyes punching a neat little hole in her heart. she’s knows it’s not real: it’s the illusion of closeness, the false confidence of a hushed and darkened plane, but she doesn’t mind. for the moment, at least, it feels real. there's a kind of unfamiliar electricity that goes through her at the nearness of him, and she can't help wondering if he feels it, too. (joajung)